


Rainbows and Puppies, Manure and Spoilt Milk

by wneleh



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Vomiting, post-GMMore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 19:19:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6820861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wneleh/pseuds/wneleh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continues on from GMM #916 "Gross Animal Food Taste Test" (the one with the pig snout) and GMMore "Mom Snacks Taste Test."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rainbows and Puppies, Manure and Spoilt Milk

“Anything you want me to make for you, I’ll make it,” Rhett babbled, hoping this was usable, hoping Link could keep it together for another thirty seconds, through the wrap-up… 

Which, right, had to include their moms, hence Stevie’s wild gesticulations toward the “Mothers Day Episode” sign next to Camera One.

“Thanks for watching, Mom,” said Rhett. “I love you, I love you so much… Thank you for all the wonderful things you made for me…” 

Link was, at least, gamely keeping up with the closing arc, sending his love to their moms as well. So they were, at least, getting all the content they needed.

“Link didn’t want to eat any of it,” said Rhett, “but you already knew that. You didn’t like him as a kid anyway.”

“Okay, that’s enough, cut,” called Stevie, and even before ‘cut’ Link had pushed back and gotten up and was half-way out of the studio.

The crewmembers launched into their post-tape jobs, which meant they could ignore Link’s exit, but Rhett couldn’t. 

Link wasn’t in the washroom right off the studio, so Rhett headed to their office. Even though he wasn’t more than a minute behind Link, he rapped on the door before entering.

Like he expected, Link was hunched on the sofa, curled around Rhett’s favorite trash can. Ex-favorite. 

He didn’t look up, but waved, and Rhett took that as permission to stay.

From the smell (or lack thereof) Rhett was pretty sure Link hadn’t actually brought anything up yet. Probably better to keep it that way, long-term esophagus wear-and-tear measured against the odd way you usually felt better after vomiting – or, well, not worse.

“Want to try something to calm your stomach?” Rhett asked, not sure what that’d be – they had a few staples, but none seemed appropriate.

Link shook his head. “This is psychological, not physical,” he said, then coughed and spit into the bin.

“Okay,” said Rhett, dropping down beside him. “Think about puppies. Rainbows. Butterflies and buttercups.”

“No, don’t,” managed Link. “Don’t ruin nice things.”

Oh. OH. “How about – horse manure. Spoilt milk. Five-day-old banana peels.”

Link raised his head out of the bin a little. “Keep going.”

“Popped pimples. A public outhouse the service company forgot about. Man’s inhumanity to man.”

Link lower the bin to the floor beside him. “Keep going.”

“The cooked liver of anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

Link leaned back, his breathing deep and measured. “Rhett McLaughlin, you never cease to amaze me,” he said.


End file.
